


Hard Up

by RussianWitch



Category: Starship Troopers (1997), Starship Troopers - Robert A. Heinlein
Genre: Alternate Universe - Book/Movie Fusion, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Post-Canon, at least post movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 10:53:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12793035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: PWP in a tent





	Hard Up

**Author's Note:**

> Because I have a mild obsession with the book (mecha armor is awesome!) and I need the exercise.  
> Not beta'd

"Are you crazy?" Johnny hisses scrambling back out of Ace's grasp, but the tent isn't that large the sides too thin to lean on without up-ending it. The whole tent already reeks of sex and desperation, making it hard to breathe, making Johnny's mouth go dry.

"Come on," Ace whines, one hand moving on his dick, squeezing right under the head making it swell angry and red, the other crawling across the sleeping bags in Johnny's direction reminding him a little too much of the smaller scout bugs they've been encountering as of late, "like you never gave a buddy a hand before!"

Ace actually stops when Johnny only winces in answer, sets his jaw, and glares, unwilling to own up to anything. Could be that sort of thing is normal on the backwater Ace is from, could be it's common all over, but no one Johnny knew ever did anything like that.

"Dude!" Ace huffs in disbelieve, "you've been missing out!" He lunges forward, surprising Johnny into getting pinned to the tent floor, Ace on top of him, Ace's dick slapping his bare side leaving a sticky spot on his ribs.

"Let go of me, Ace! That's an order!" He hisses, torn between listening for evidence that they are drawing attention from outside and fighting Ace off.

Ace is heavy, the new mechanical armor they are using builds muscle like crazy, Johnny would love having occasion to use it more often to bulk up, but with all the responsibilities he has, he finds himself hanging back more and more these days to direct the fight from the rear using the lighter mecha suits with the extra comm-lines and tactical gear build in.

Ace doesn't listen, he pins Johnny's hands, panting wetly against Johnny's throat humping him like a dog. Johnny can feel his dick rolling and sliding against his abdomen leaving sticky spots and wet trails, soaking into the hem of his shorts. A thick thigh forces its way between his legs, presses roughly against Johnny's dick, grinding down in a way that isn't supposed to feel good...

He doesn't realize that he's grinding back until Ace moans filthily into his ear, and Johnny finds that his hands are free and grabbing at Ace's hair. His shorts are gone, and their dicks have lined up and are sliding together, Ace's balls slapping against his own, it's a shockingly novel sensation along with the slide of another man's dick against his own. He gropes down sinking his finger in the unyielding flesh of Ace's ass to force him into—something, Johnny realizes, doesn't know what the hell he wants.

"That's my boy!" Ace chuckles, shoving his hand between their bodies and squeezing their dicks in his fist. The pain of it making Johnny curse and claw at Ace's ass harder, maybe because it feels _good_ , or maybe to get it over with already so he can go for his gun and shoot Ace for insubordination.

Ace's balls slap against his, heavy, furry and sweaty, weird—the only word he can think off.

"You're going to pay for this!" He pants, the words turning into a groan as Ace squeezes again, stripping their dicks roughly until both are drooling on his belly, sticky strands connecting the two of them when Johnny looks down.

He's going to have to waste so much time getting cleaned up—he doesn't even want to think about it.

Ace groans, and slobbering all over Johnny's neck, sinking his teeth into the thick muscle of Johnny's shoulder, gnawing at it until it hurts, but feels good too. He tries to wiggle free again but ends up thrusting into Ace's grip, his balls drawing up, aching to spill.

"Yeah, that's it, rich boy, give it up!" Ace pants against his throat, licking the sweat off his skin and scraping his teeth over Johnny's collarbone. His hips move faster, and Johnny moans, sensitive skin dragging against sensitive skin, Ace's grip tightening more and more.

"Come on!" Ace grins viciously, and Johnny squeezes his eyes shut, trying to think of Carmen, so he doesn't come from a guy playing with his dick. It doesn't work; he hasn't seen Carmen for ages, and Ace is _there_ obnoxious, hot and heavy demanding Johnny's attention like he always does.

"I hate you!" He groans, spilling over Ace's hand and his own belly, biting his lips to keep in a scream as Ace continues stroking until it hurts until Johnny tries to fight again until Ace comes too, spurts of come painting Johnny's belly mingling with sweat. 

"Damn!" Ace groans, letting go abruptly and dropping like a stone onto his mat, his hand still on his dick milking the last of his spunk out, ignoring Johnny completely.

He gropes for his knife, getting up as slow as he can, putting the knife to Ace's throat pushing the point in until a drop of blood wells.

Ace freezes, looking up with wide eyes, still dazed from coming and soft in a way Johnny's never seen.

He wants to push down on the knife, wants to drive it through Ace's throat and be done with it—promote one of the grunts to sergeant, send a message to Carl to get Ace's records, leave the body on an outcrop somewhere for the bugs to find during the next push...

"Seriously?" Ace slurs, mouth barely moving, "was just 'aving fun..." he moans plaintively like he hasn't assaulted a superior officer, hasn't committed a shooting offense.

Johnny tries, he really does, because he knows that now that this has happened, it's going to happen again and again until one of them buys the farm or gets maimed bad enough to be shipped home. He drags the knife along Ace's throat, digging the tip in right under the right ear, smearing the blood that wells on the tip of the knife across Ace's cheek, knees him as hard as he can in the balls, grabs pants and his shaving kit and marches himself to the showers.  


End file.
